


Doc's Collection for the Unrelated "Timelines"

by FNDocMainWrites



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26005795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FNDocMainWrites/pseuds/FNDocMainWrites
Summary: Making this in the event I have a fic that isn't big enough to be it's own standalone fic or doesn't fit anywhere else/happens to just be a "short" drabble. Tags will be updated accordingly and so will the rating if it ends up changing. No schedule set on when this will be updated, it's purely at my own pace.
Relationships: John "Soap" MacTavish/Gary "Roach" Sanderson, John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	1. Soap/Roach - Cloudy Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I've been gone for a bit, thought I'd migrate this from Tumblr to here because I thought, "why not?". I enjoy Soap/Roach, and figured I'd write something for it. Felt like writing something on the leisure side.

It was a cloudy morning, something that wasn’t much of a surprise to Gary ‘Roach’ Sanderson as his eyes slowly opened to the world, waiting for him to get up and ready. In his muddled mind he mused that John ‘Soap’ MacTavish would make a comment about the clouds, noting that it wouldn’t be so damn bright now that the blue skies were covered. He’d always liked overcast days, something that Roach couldn’t really wrap his head around, since he himself preferred the sun basking against everything it touched. But to see the content face along with the quiet humming from the Scotsman on a day like this one was something to behold in his eyes. Whenever asked, the man always responded with how a cloudy day was a gentle middle ground. It was very much unlike a stormy day, locked with looming dark clouds just threatening to swallow you whole. Cloudy mornings contrasted to sunny skies, blaring through your blinds just hoping to blind you in the first moments of dawn and becoming a nuisance. 

In any case, a content Soap was something of an oddity, since he was always focused and intent on continuing his work as commander of the 141. He and Price were usually strict about taking a moment to relax, especially in this day and age where anything could jump out at you. Roach himself remained vigilant about his time to relax, making sure to make the most of it while tending to important matters as his main priority. Still, he could appreciate a bright morning whenever possible. 

He shifted his body, stretching out his unused muscles before remembering the set of arms that made use in keeping his presence close. They tightened around his bare waist, as if offended by his sudden movements that threatened to pull his body away.

“Mmn... Think ya could stop movin’ love?” Soap muttered. His voice was muffled, buried into Roach’s shoulder blade as he too, stretched out. The younger operator noted the time, seeing that it was too early to warrant a reasonable start of the day, but almost enough to lie in bed with the love of his life.

Roach smiled, turning to lay on his right side and gaze at the captain’s face. His eyes were still sealed shut, eyebrows furrowed apparently as Roach continued to disobey his request of maintaining the peace. The stubble on the Scotsman’s face still remained freshly shaven, prompting the younger operator to gently brush his fingers against his jawline.

“Love, what time is it?”

“Too early.”

“Right,” he mumbled. Soap’s eyes slowly opened, revealing soft blue irises capable of ensnaring Roach in a marveling trance. “And why would a handsome lad like you be awake so early before me?”

He thought for a moment, fingers still caressing the dark stubble with interest. It was pure coincidence and luck on his end, but at the same time if he played his words correctly (not that he spoke very much) maybe he could turn this into his favor; he could sneak a little more time alone with the man.

“To admire the view,” he responded. It prompted an amused huff from the older man, followed by a hand massaging his waist.

“Ya can do that whenever ya want, love. But try doin’ it when I’m awake an’ not half asleep.”

“Cloudy sky today.”

“Is that so,” Soap replied, “I’ll make sure to have ya run out in the rain if it does.”

Roach’s face turned unimpressed as he pulled his fingers away. He chuckled quietly, cradling the man’s head in his arms.

“Just messin’ with ya. You know I love ya too much to do it for my amusement.” The captain laughed, popping a kiss on his collarbone.

Laying in silence, Roach cherished these moments alone together. He always made sure to keep them ingrained in his memory for when times would be rough and he needed something to live by. The man didn’t doubt that Soap did the same, and although he didn’t write about it in his journal (Roach was sure of that, he’d grabbed several glances of the scribbled upon pages), his body language of pressing him close was enough.

Soap himself wasn’t very intimate away from closed doors, choosing to separate his personal life from his work, so seeing and feeling something as phenomenal as this was absolutely worth the sentimental value to Roach. It gave him even more reason to sneak a quick peck on the cheek there or a reassuring hand squeeze here whenever possible.

“So, in that case, ya willin’ to start the day?” Soap popped the question, pulling his head back to stare at the wonderful being in front of him.

Roach offered a weak yawn before burying himself into the older man’s body heat. He hadn’t realized how cold this morning was.

“I thought so. Well, I’ll let ya stay here for a while longer. I’m gonna go get ready.” On any other day, it would have slipped by with no fuss. Roach just needed a few more minutes to adjust to the mornings anyhow, and he was usually up after Soap the moment he could smell the scent of coffee waft in. But this time around, he had other plans in mind.

A calloused hand darted out, enclosing itself against Soap’s wrist with no intention of letting go the more he opened up the distance. He glanced back with amusement, reading Roach’s face and eyes that very much reflected the exact opposite.

_ You better stay _ , they seemed to say.

He thought for a moment, weighing his options. If he didn’t stay, he’d eventually have to deal with a sulky Roach, only accepting apologies in the form of promised shared intimacy (not that Soap had a problem with it, no complaints here). If he did stay, well that just let the good feelings roll.

Besides, he didn’t like to see a sulky Roach at all. How could he let such a wonderful person be without their deserved affection?

“Actually, I think I can spare a few moments for my love,” he finally said, settling back into bed. The mattress dipped as he took his usual spot. He threw on the covers over their bare bodies and pulled the other man close.

Roach grinned, happily wrapping his own arms around Soap’s body; his warm breath tickling his chest. He sighed pleasantly, feeling a calloused hand treading itself through his soft hair.

“I think Ghost will be able to deal with Price and Kamarov’s bickering on his own eh?”

The younger operator giggled, squeezing his waist in agreement.

Maybe Roach could understand the appeal of a peaceful cloudy day after all.


	2. Soap/Ghost - Helicopter Behavior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soap worries for Ghost, but Ghost is there to remind him what it means to have people who've got your back.

“Fuck, fuck, _ fuck!” _ Soap growled to himself. He bolted through the grayed hallway as bullets flew past him, each just barely missing him with every step he took. As he squeaked around a corner he barely had a moment to breathe, knowing he was somehow alive despite being chased by what felt like a whole platoon of soldiers.

He’d been separated from both Ghost and Roach just five minutes ago, and judging by the radio chatter he could hear from Ghost, they weren’t in any better position than he. So much could happen in a short period of time, and Soap didn’t even want to consider what could be.

“Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell! Soap, the hell are you doin’?!” The Scotsman could hear the gunfire roaring above the ceiling, wisps of dust fluttered down with every tremor. He could hear the sounds of boots scraping against the concrete floor.

“Tryin’ to stay alive for fuck’s sake!”

“Well I see a staircase that hasn’t caved through just up ahead, we’ll see you there- Roach put your head down!”

More gunfire, and Ghost’s voice had faded into the background. It was easy to say that Soap didn’t fear death. After all, there was always Price who could hold the team together. Ghost was a reliable right hand man who easily got a job done even with all variables placed against him. Roach was a resilient soldier, and he wouldn’t back down without putting up a fight.

He’d chosen these soldiers with logical reasoning, and careful planning. If he were gone, there was always someone he trusted deeply to fill in the space he’d leave in such an event. He’d often muse to himself that since he found himself getting injured so often, he’d lose another one of his nine lives.

But... Even if he was okay with the thought of dying, it wasn’t the same as anyone else dying. He hated to admit it, but he cared deeply about his soldiers. His job was professional, there was no denying that. But he constantly feared the idea of losing others, like... Like Gaz.

Something like that was ingrained in his memory. The Captain never forgot anything. He could easily remember anything if he were asked. Even if it were as small as Roach’s strange enjoyment for staring at the sky when it was clear.

But his fears delved deeper than that didn’t it? He was afraid of losing the people he worked with. His friends. But most importantly he was terrified of losing Ghost. It always crawled into his nightmares... terrorizing him until he wanted to curl up in a ball and never look at anything ever again.

But he made a promise to himself. He’d never let it happen. He’d do everything in his power to prevent anyone crossing that bridge, even at the expense of himself. It was destructive, sure, but it was his way of repaying this... unpayable debt. It was a miracle that it even happened.

Well, Soap wasn’t sure if he really believed in miracles. But whether they really existed or not, he sure hoped he’d get one now.

“Ghost, Roach! Get to the rooftop I’m gettin’ close to your position!” He narrowly tripped his way up the staircase, cursing to himself as he felt a bullet graze the cloth of his uniform. It wasn’t a direct hit to his leg, but he could feel the material of his pant leg tearing open.

Clearing three flights of stairs he felt a vague wave of relief as he caught sight of his two subordinates. The upper area was eerily quiet, but with the entire building chasing them from below, Soap had barely processed it.

“Christ, Soap. You almost got shredded down there,” Ghost stated, “where the hell’s our ride?”

“Two minutes, and I’m expectin’ the whole damn building to be dropped on us in the meantime! Roach take some high ground, we’re gonna need all the advantages we can get.”

The Sergeant nodded, rushing off to scale a ledge in order to get a clear vantage point of the surrounding area. Soap had noted quickly that the man was an exceptionally good shot, it was almost on par with the Captain himself. For lacking words, he quickly made up with his skill. Soap anticipated the day Roach would surpass him. 

The large clatter of boots against concrete scraped against their ears as another round of adrenaline rushed through Soap’s body. In the midst of a few seconds their guns flickered to life. Time paused for them as gunfire clanged and bounced around, before wildly disappearing into the air. But the mob mentality engulfed the silence, creating a seemingly endless white noise that had just barely registered in their minds. 

“Nikolai where the hell are ya? It’s hellfire here and we could sure use a lift!”

Nikolai’s voice ripped through the howling bullets, but just barely comforting Soap.

“I’m almost there, and with air support, just hold out for a little longer!”

In the moment he had half a coherent thought to steal a glance at Ghost he heard the familiar yet painful grunt from the Brit as a bullet made contact. His heart began wildly pacing as the operator’s gun clattered to the ground along with his body. Seeing this weakness, three enemies rushed upon Ghost’s position. Seething rage coursed through the Scotsman’s blood as he neglected his own safety. It was reckless, but he couldn’t have possibly cared less, now that he was driving all of his bullets into anyone who dared come close to him.

He slid next to Ghost, quickly assessing his state before forming the conclusion that it wasn’t something that struck his vitals. Either way, it wasn’t a good turn of events for the situation they were in. 

“I’ve got ya Ghost, keep yer’ head down. Nik’s coming, don’t do anythin’ reckless!” The numbers were dwindling as fewer enemies stormed the upper area of the building, but Soap immediately expected the worst. Even so, Soap wasn’t going to leave without getting what was deserved.

“Christ Soap, watch  _ your _ damn head!” Ghost snapped back. 

The noisy bang from Roach’s sniper prickled at the Captain’s ears as they marked their targets. It left satisfaction deep in his chest as Soap in turn finished off the stragglers. Occasionally he took a split of a second to glance at the Lieutenant before returning his gaze to anything that moved. It wasn’t long before the all too familiar hum of Nikolai’s chopper that Soap felt an instance of relief. 

“Heard you needed a lift! Get on and I’ll get us the hell out of here!” Two of Nikolai’s Loyalists pulled the door open, the other taking the opportunity to strike back at the men slinging bullets in their direction. Soap quickly hoisted Ghost over his shoulder, supporting his body as he flicked his head in Roach’s direction.

“Roach! Get yer arse down here! The Loyalists will cover you!” Stepping into the chopper, Soap quickly set Ghost into the nearest seat before raising his gun to assist against the growing wave of enemies. It wasn’t long before the Sergeant followed through, settling into the seat just across from Ghost. The Captain quickly signaled Nikolai before bracing himself for the sudden takeoff. He kept a close eye on the building, body remaining alert until it was left behind as a dot in the distance. He quickly turned around, panic now swarming his senses. It was unprofessional, but he couldn’t have quite possibly cared. He stared at Ghost, pushing his way through the Loyalists.

“Bloody ‘ell, Soap. Keep it together I’m in fuckin’ pain but _ not dead yet, _ ” Ghost growled. He grunted loudly as one of the Loyalists extracted the bullet from the wound in his arm. Through tightly clenched teeth he sucked in a deep breath, his right hand gripping the bottom of the seat in a death grip.

Soap moved to get closer before Roach’s hand caught his shoulder. With fiery eyes, MacTavish glared at the Sergeant. In any other case it could have made any soldier back down, but Roach’s eyes didn’t waver, as if they were immune to his rage.

_ ‘Let them work,’ _ they seemed to say, _ ‘it’s best to not interfere.’ _

He sighed. Roach was right. This was the best they had it, and for Soap to ruin their luck would quickly put a damper on their fortunate circumstances. In one fell swoop his rage began to leave the deepest reaches of his soul. He slumped in the nearest chair away from the Loyalists tending to Ghost. All he could do was wait, and his body made no qualms about it despite the protests of his mind. 

He reached into the carrier on his vest and pulled out his cherished journal. It was the only thing he could think of that comforted him in the present moment. Paging through it’s contents he searched for a clean page that hadn’t been filled up or splattered with his own blood. Stealing one last glance at Ghost he did the only thing he could coherently form in his mind.

“Safehouse is approaching, we’re about to land,” Nikolai called after half an hour had passed. Time had gone like a blur in Soap’s mind, but it didn’t do anything to comfort him. The Loyalists accompanying them had done what they could without proper access to medical tools and were already engaging in their own conversation away from them. Soap took the opportunity to seat himself next to Ghost. Moments of silence passed between them, almost as if they had nothing to say to each other.

“You look terrible,” Ghost stated. His voice was gruff, but Soap snorted.

“I’ve looked worse. Where’d the bullet hit you?”

“Nowhere near enough to kill me,” he mused, “worrying like that out there’s gonna get ya killed.”

“ _ You _ almost got killed,” Soap corrected, turning his head to face him. “yer just lucky that he had a terrible shot. What if it hit something important?”

“Then I’d have you around to squeeze me half to death to complete the process.”

Soap glanced around, noting that neither of them held anyone’s attention, even Roach who had dozed off long ago.

“I just can’t afford to lose you,” Soap muttered, snaking his fingers through the other operator’s. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Ghost stayed silent. He squeezed the Scotsman’s hand reassuringly. 

“I wouldn’t let that happen, I assure you. And if I wanted it to, you’d stop me right then and there and give me a bollocking worse than anyone could ever muster.”

Soap laughed quietly, resting his head on Ghost’s good shoulder. He felt the arm shift to lay itself over his own as a gloved hand clasped his bicep comfortingly.

“You’re carryin’ me in there and explainin’ this to Price right?”

“Since you put it that way, no. But I’ll carry you all ya want you _ pillow princess.” _

Ghost grinned behind his balaclava, “s’not what I saw two nights ago if I remember correctly.”

“I’ll give you something to remember about when we get back, and it’s not goin’ to end up with us in a bed,” Soap dauntingly replied.

The Lieutenant merely chuckled, knowing that one way or another, it would.


End file.
